Hill Country Holdup

“What’s wrong?” Jane asked, shouting into the wind.

“Nothing. We’re fine.” They bumped into a lounge chair cushion and Steve pushed it away with his foot. He wiped the water from his face using the tail of his wet T-shirt and flexed his stiff fingers several times. “You doing okay?”

“How far do you think we’ve come?”

“A couple of miles.”

“I’m glad you can make out where we’re going. I can’t see a thing.”

Little did she know he couldn’t see anything, either. He steered as best he could, keeping the cascade over his right shoulder. If the wind direction and slant of the rain were consistent, he just might manage to get them to the other end of the lake.

There wasn’t much room on the seat. Reaching behind him with one hand, he scooted Jane’s hips closer to his own. Half of him was glad for the close contact. The same half that loved the crazy thump-thump-thump his heart made whenever they were together. The other half kicked himself for letting her come along.

“Ready?” he asked, leaning forward to grab the throttle again.

“Yeah.”

Jane’s arms tightened once more, and she placed her face against his shirt. Back in his life a few hours, she made him feel more alive with one casual touch than any rush his current life provided.

Steve braced himself. He couldn’t turn and avoid an impact with the object in front of him. The Jet Ski rammed into a log and the side of his head slammed into the handle. He lost his grip and flew off the seat.

Water rushed up to meet him. He lost all sense of direction and inhaled a gallon of water as he sank deeper each second.

Some long-forgotten training finally clicked on in his subconscious. He fought the impulse to save all his air and let some go, watching the bubbles rise. He kicked his legs hard and struggled back to precious air on the surface. A weight pulled at his midsection, making it more difficult to stay above the water.

He had to hurry and began to pull himself through the rough waves. He couldn’t lose the Jet Ski several yards away.

His eyes stung from the water and the rain made it more difficult to see. He could breathe again, but just barely with whatever was jerking him down.

God, the weight was Jane.

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